Driven By Instinct

10 - Thrive

"How long is it going to keep following us?"

"She's not bothering anyone."

Constantine looked over his shoulder. "It's slowing you down." Vica looked elsewhere to avoid his gaze, and he turned to face forward again. She was still prickly, but her quiet reticence was easier to deal with than self-destructive, rabid outbursts. With the memory of her previous liveliness still fresh in his mind, he was cautious of prodding her more the way he usually would. He would save that for when he was sure she wouldn't scalp herself again. "Why is it following you? What does it want?"

"Nothing."

A twitch pulled at the corner of his mouth. Was this the trade-off? Treated to a show and then hit with a dour sullenness for hours afterward. It was better than having to restrain her from hurting herself, but a meek, near-mute Vica made for boring company. He came to a sudden stop, and he heard the rustling of soft grasses behind him fall quiet as well. He turned. "Walk in front of me."

She didn't argue, which he would have thought unusual if he was unaware that she was treading with extra care. Smart, he thought; in her position, he would have expected a sound beating for his antics. Or was there another reason for her uncharacteristic agreeableness?

He grabbed her arm just as she moved around him, and she started in his grasp. Her glittering, dark eyes landed on his face squarely and latched on. Her mouth drew into a sharp line, and she clenched her jaw as if waiting for a blow. Ah, he thought, he was right. His intuition rarely failed. That he could crudely determine her emotions through her magic was also proving continually convenient. "Vica." Constantine ignored the urge to pull her closer. That could come later when he finished impressing on her the importance of good behavior. "Whatever you're thinking, don't bother. Normally I wouldn't say no to a harmless chase, but I don't know what your pet can do. That's a problem." He pointed behind him with his thumb. "I have no issues with burning every tree in these woods down to find you. So if you care" - he caught the acorn that came sailing at him this time - "you won't make me do that."

How frustrating it must be to care so much, he thought as he saw the fierceness that flickered across her face. He couldn't imagine what it had to be like to have so many vulnerabilities, so many ways to be controlled. In town, she feared for the strangers around her; out here, she feared for common wood spirits. Maybe he ought to just go ahead and threaten to cut down every inhabitant in the nearest settlement if she ever escaped, he thought vaguely, but he rather liked the idea of stalking her through the darkness at least once. A threat like that would immediately kill any chance of it.

Just not here, and not now. For all he knew, the dryad had some trick to make Vica disappear, and he would have to waste precious time tracking her down instead of engaging in some minor tumbling foreplay.

He waited for her reply, almost anticipating the next biting word to leave her mouth. Would she decry his humanity again? Tell him he was a monster and beat his chest with her fists? What was it like to live by such puritanical principles? All wrapped up in a moral code that did nothing for her except stroke her ego.

"You don't deserve whatever you have." Vica tried to shake off his grip and take her place in front of him as he had ordered, but his hold only tightened. She looked up. "Do you want me to stay, or do you want me to go?" she asked, irritated.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Vica frowned. "What?"

Constantine continued to hold her by the arm. "I don't deserve what I have?" he repeated, his inquisitive tone at odds with the sharp, almost warning look in his yellow eyes.

She gaped at him, struck silent by his reaction. He had never cared enough about what she said to question her about it before, she thought, until now. Ridiculous. Her frustration was burning afresh at his casual threat to kill every nymph in the forest, and she couldn't stop the derisive words on her tongue. "Am I wrong?" she asked. How could a criminal like him have any difficulty understanding what she had said? "Everything you have, you took from someone else. You kill for money. You make threats to get your way. Everyone and everything is just a plaything. You're smart, you're skilled, but it's all wasted on you. If I had what you have - if anyone else had what you have -"

There was an unfamiliar glacial sheen in Constantine's eyes that warned Vica to stop, but by then, she had lost all fear of retaliation and punishment. She hadn't intended it, but something she had said had drawn blood, and no power in the world would make her stop now. Her heart pounded so loudly she wondered if he could hear it.

"You can't even say there's someone who's proud of you, can you?"

The silence that followed was cool and empty. Constantine said nothing and did nothing as he continued to hold her stare. Even when Vica shrugged her shoulder up and down several times to detach his hand, he remained immovable.

"Well, are we done?" she asked impatiently, tossing his own words back at him from several hours prior. "Or are we going to make camp here?" The sun was still visible just over the horizon, meaning they had yet an hour of daylight remaining. Vica imagined that with long winter nights fast approaching and therefore fewer hours in the day to travel, he would want to press on.

But Constantine lived to surprise. He suddenly released her arm with a smile and held her cheek instead. Before she could bat it away, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip, pressing a little too hard to be gentle. "We can stop early. Not here, next to the river. It's about a mile from here. Say goodbye to your friend. It can't leave the trees, right? Seemed that way."

Vica briefly wondered at his wording - it seemed like he was implying that he hadn't known a nymph started dying the instant she touched the ground. Not that it mattered anymore, she thought. She nodded and changed course, hesitating only to search out one last glimpse of the nymph in the trees before turning away. It was better not to attract too much attention to the dryad, Vica thought privately, especially since Constantine had somehow ascertained that the little wood spirit had been trying to help her escape. It was unfortunate that his apparent psychic prowess had struck again, but Vica hadn't put much stock in the plan anyway. A juvenile nymph would find it taxing to hide both of their bodies for long in the trees.

Dusk fell more quickly than Vica had expected, but by the time twilight fell, they had already set up camp. Constantine lingered by the fire, already lying back on his bedroll after washing in the river, unconcerned as usual about his unwilling audience. Vica too knew she had to bathe - and rinse the dried blood from the back of her head - but it was not quite dark enough to preserve her privacy. There were no boulders here either. Maybe the tall reed plants were thick enough to provide cover. She briefly considered waiting until it was darker, but venomous river snakes were too common by far in this region. Stepping on one was not in her immediate plans.

"I'm washing up," she said awkwardly after a moment of watching Constantine lie motionless. Maybe she shouldn't have told him in case he interpreted it as an invitation, but ever since her scathing criticism of his worth, her instincts told her to tread carefully. The last thing she wanted was for him to take her 'disappearance' as an excuse to go and set fire to the trees in petty revenge. She didn't think it below him. If anything, he was probably hoping for just such a thing.

Thankfully, she saw no trace of Constantine as she soaked in the river, and she even allowed herself an extra few minutes to simply bask in the feel of the clean, rushing water. It was cold, but that only made her anticipate the warmth of the campfire with more pleasure. She could have the last of Morra's biscuits before bed, she thought, since Constantine didn't seem to have any plans of catching dinner. It didn't bother her; she could easily subsist for days on scant supplies. If Constantine thought that starving her for a meal would make her regret what she had said, he was an i***t.

She was settling down to sleep when Constantine called her name. This again, she thought with disgust. She didn't even bother answering. She got to her feet reluctantly and began picking up her bedroll.

"Leave it."

Her eyes darted over to the man. She searched his face in the flickering firelight for any sign that he was simply trying to get a rise out of her. She must have hesitated too long for his tastes because he beckoned her over with his hand a moment later.

"Vica," he said, his voice smooth and his eyes bright. "Come here."

She instantly regretted every impertinent thing she had said and done during the day. He had warned her last night after all. "Move over," she grumbled once she was standing over him. He was lying directly in the middle of his bedroll, leaving only inches of space on either side of his broad shoulders. "Or at least let me bring my roll over so that I don't have to sleep in the dirt -"

The ground suddenly flew up at Vica, and then she felt her body yanked sideways. In her daze, it took her several seconds to realize that Constantine had pulled her down so that she was awkwardly straddling him. Her initial disgruntled discomfort quickly gave way to shock, and she scrambled to stand back up.

Constantine's hands came down to grasp her hips and halted her escape, and with one fluid, sinuous movement, he adjusted her so that she could feel something rigid and hot through the fabric of their pants, directly between her legs. She froze, uncomprehending - or perhaps simply not wanting to comprehend. Her hands that had been braced against his abdomen to try to keep her balance suddenly clenched into fists.

Constantine was staring up at her, a serene smile on his face. But his eyes - Vica trembled. Those were the eyes she had seen earlier when she had reviled him with such sincerity. Cold, fiercely yellow, like wolves' eyes. He had been angry, she realized too late. And he was angry now.

"I'm going to use your body," he said softly, gently, almost kindly - as if he were asking after her well being. "And you're going to let me."